Turning Japanese Remix...thats not me.

Dropping the F-Bomb

Looks like I am heading back to CT on Tuednesday. Im not sure if it will be the first or the second part of Tuednesday yet but it will definitely be on Tuednesday.

While preparing to leave TN I realized something. I am NOT dropping F-bombs like I am invading Iraq and I am NOT cursing like a sailor (maybe an irate biker but definitley not a sailor). The thing is, the mechanics on the test stand in TN don't curse nearly as much as the mechanics in FL. So, not having been on the test stands in FL for a while, my language has improved dramatically. This is a good thing because it was getting ridiculous. Don't get me wrong. When the time is right, dropping an F-bomb can be really effective AND it just feels good. On the other hand, when you are flying in friendly skies and you accidently drop an F-bomb out of habit...well, sometimes it's not good.

The funny thing is, I am an auditory idiot. You wouldn't think that I would be such a parrot. If anything, I should be resistant to such things. Well, enough introspection. Its time to fucking go.

GIVE ME MY SNOOD BITCHES!

I have been Snooded. I went cold turkey on video games a long time ago. I went cold turkey for a reason. The reason is that they suck. They are worse than crack. Like crack they do nothing to actually make you happy in the long run. Sure they give you immediate gratification but in the mean time you aren't in the gym; you aren't out meeting new people and you aren't doing anything that is going to improve the quality of your life in even the tiniest of ways.
So, having acknowledged that I have a problem, I will also admit to having a relapse. The thing is, I was introduced to this game called Snood. Its kind of Tetris-y and its kind of addictive...at least, that is, if you are me. I have a real problem w/ Snood. Once I start I just can't stop snooding. Today I got my first hit of snood at around 10:00 AM and its pretty much all I did all day. This is crap and thats all that I have to say on the matter. I would write more but I have to uninstall Snood before I have another relapse.

Who Stole Tuesday?

Its Wednesday? What in the? How...? There is no way that 2 days have just gone by. Just yesterday it was Tuesday morning and I was getting on a plane to TN. Now it's Wednesday night and the previous 2 days are done. I still can't believe that 2 days have gone by. In my world it was only one day, I will call this day Tuednesday. As it turns out, I had an action packed and very productive Tuednesday. In fact, it was such a successful Tuednesday, I am thinking about making it an official day in my week. My new offical week will be Monday, Tuednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday. Of course, this presents some problems for Microsoft. The thing is, Outlook doesn't have a Tuednesday. This makes scheduling meetings on Tuednesday quite difficult. Since this will be a major inconvenience for me, old Billy boy is going to have to come up with a new release of Outlook that includes a proper week. That being the case, I have to go now. Next week is going to be a busy week and somebody needs to get Bill's team of monkeys to crank out an update for Outlook ASAP. If not, 6 days from now, people are going to feel rather silly showing up for meetings on a day that doesn't even exist anymore.

Im Tired

Almost Pointless

Point #1 Remember those commercials for York Peppermint Patties? You know, "When I bite into a York Peppermint Pattie, I get the cool sensation of..." OK, so now that you remember...they are a bunch of crap. Last night, after hitting a late night diner, I HAD a Peppermint Patty and I have to say, there were no cool sensations. As it turns out, when I bite into a York Peppermint Patty I just get a bunch of squishy chocolate in my teeth. Where did my cool breeze go?

Point #2 Went to the Niantic Book Barn today w/ cute girl. Book Barn is really not accurate though. The Book Barn is actually a bunch of barns, sheds and other small buildings stuffed to the gills with books (duh). As with most used book stores, you can trade in books for cash OR store credits. However, unlike most other used book stores, the Niantic Book Barn also has a horde of cats and two goats. In my opinion you should be able to use store credits to get a goat. I never was able to find out how many store credits would be required though. This is really too bad. After all, Halloween is coming up and it is hard to respectably celebrate most pagan holidays without a goat...or vestal virgins for that matter.

Magic 8-Ball Says: "You Still Suck, Stop Asking!"

For all the anonymous venting about my boss over the past year or so, I now feel that I have to give the guy some credit over how he has been handling himself over the last few weeks. For starters he has actually held some impromptu meetings in which he actually LISTENED to input from other people when they offered suggestions. He sat there, listened and seemed to absorb the information. A far cry from his usual nod and smile while his eyes betray the fact that he is really just thinking about what he is going to say next. Now we will see if he actually follows through on any of what he appeared to absorb. If he does I will be very impressed. After all, we are still waiting on the meeting minutes/ action items from our only real team meeting from over 2 years ago. As an added bonus, he has also been slightly more personable of late. Not quite as stand offish. So we here at the NRYBA* say good start towards not sucking bossman.
However, despite these positives, he still has a strong dictatorial tinge to his style of management. So, in light of recent conversations and events, the boss-o-meter has moved from “Hitler” to “Ivan the Moderately Horrible.” Way to go bossman! Perhaps next week you may even actively seek input from your employees.

Stay tuned for more updates from the Boss-o-Meter

*National Rate Your Boss Association

My nerd lifeline has been cut.

This is crap. I have no cable at home. This means no real posts until
1) I leave for TN on Tuesday
2) I have absolutely nothing to do at work
3) COX stops sucking.


So, in lieu of a real post I bring you the quote of the day:

Quote of the Day: "Dude, your quote of the day sucks."

A Mini Pirate Excursion

Arrr me maties. I went water skiing today for the first time in years. Even better, it was with a group of extremely retarded but equally entertaining coworkers/friends. The boat held a crew of six and never was there a more qualified bunch of blaggards to man such a ridiculously fast boat filled with booze. Ok, so we were only qualified for the booze aspect...but isn't that what being a pirate is all about. That still doesn't change the fact that the boat was fast though. How fast? It was capable of generating more G's than that time Porky Pig tried out to be the spokes pig for Frosted Flakes (take that Dennis Miller).
Anyways, we all took a turn at skiing but some were more successful than others. Some members of the group didn't do so well due to injury. Others didn't do so well because they didn't see signs on the wake board that said "For use by EXPERT skiers only." But we all had fun and we all looked like idiots together.
Then there was dinner. We pulled up to some restaurant on the lake and ate fried shrimp, fried oysters, fried crab cakes, fried catfish, fried hush puppies, fried fried stuff, etc. The best part of dinner was feeding the mutant catfish that were swimming just off of the dock. They ate everything except the coleslaw. And when I say everything, I mean that they even ate the chunks of fried catfish that we threw in the water....thats just wrong. Here fishy fishy fishy, have some soylent fishfood. Do you think that they even would have cared if they knew? Im guessing no.

After dinner we went zipping back across the lake in the dark making pirate jokes and being generally obnoxious. This would have been even more entertaining if I had not been in wet shorts for over 3 hours. There is nothing good about being in wet shorts for that long. NOTHING. But that was only a minor problem and really didn't detract from the evening all that much. Getting stuck in TN for an extra day ended up being not so bad. I still stand by my last post though. They can all still choke on the purple berries.

May all the people who have conspired to keep me in TN for this one extra day choke on purple berries.

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On Beyond Zebra

I was trying to look busy and blazing new trails across the interweb when I came across this strange beast. What in the hell is this thing? Did a giraffe get molested by a zebra...or an aardvark? Or perhaps the offspring of a zebra and a giraffe was molested by a hyena? This thing is supposedly called an Okapi but I think that we can do much better. Of course, after my 6th grade fiasco in Mrs Brackens class I don't think I will ever try my hand at naming an animal again.

TANGENT ALERT! TANGENT ALERT!

For some reason we had a creative writing assignment that involved making up a fictional animal. We had to give it a name, eating habits, natural habitat etc. If I recall, it was a rather entertaining assignment. I even drew a picture for my creature. It looked something like this.

The fiasco came when Mrs Bracken came over and asked me about the stupid thing.

Mrs B: So, what do you call it? Its a rather interesting looking creature.
Me: Its a Pimp.
Mrs B: A what?
Me: A Pimp. P-I-M-P.
Mrs B: Do you know what a pimp is jpr?
Me: Uh, no? That? [pointing at picture]
Mrs B: Perhaps you should go find a dictionary [at this point a large smirk is creeping across her face...she can't hold it in anymore]

Now, whether or not the other students knew what a pimp was, they definitely knew it was something inappropriate so of course the finger pointing and "pimp" shouting began spreading across the room just as steadily as the smirk had crept across Mrs Brackens face. It was a very confusing time for me. One moment I'm minding my own business and enjoying my work and the next moment I am being called a pimp from all over the room. It stuck. So, don't any of you bitches piss me off or I may have to give you the pimp hand and pop a cap in yo ass. Peace out homies.